[Footnote 1: Reprinted by permission from _Lippincott's Magazine_.]
There are conversational compensations for life in the Orient. Talk
does not grow stale when there are always the latest phases of "the
great game" of international politics to gossip about. Men do not
discuss baseball performances in the cafés of Constantinople; but the
latest story of how Von Bieberstein, the German Ambassador, bulldozed
Haaki Pasha, the Grand Vizier, and sent the latter whining among his
friends for sympathy, is far more piquant. The older residents among
the ladies of the diplomatic corps, whose visiting list extends "beyond
the curtain," have their own well-spiced tales to tell of "the great
game" as it is played behind the latticed windows of the harem. It is
not only in London and Berlin and Washington and Paris that wives and
daughters of diplomats boost the business of their men-folk. In this
mysterious, women's world of Turkey there are curious complications; as
when a Young Turk, with a Paris veneer, has taken as second or third
wife a European woman. One wonders which of these heavily veiled
figures on the Galata Bridge, clad in hideous _ezars_, is an
Englishwoman or a Frenchwoman or a Jewess.
Night and day, year in and year out, with all kinds of chessmen, and
with an infinite variety of byplays, "the great game" is played in
Constantinople. The fortunes of the players vary, and there are
occasional--very occasional--open rumpuses; but the players and the
stakes remain the same. Nobody can read the newspaper telegrams from
Tripoli and Constantinople intelligently who has not some understanding
of the real game that is being carried on; and in which an occasional
war is only a move.
The bespectacled professor of ancient history is best qualified to
trace the beginning of this game; for there is no other frontier on the
face of the globe over which there has been so much fighting as over
that strip of water which divides Europe from Asia, called, in its four
separate parts, the Bosporus, the Sea of Marmora, the Dardanelles, and
the Aegean Sea. Centuries before men began to date their calendars
"A.D.," the city on the Bosporus was a prize for which nations
struggled. All the old-world dominions--Greek, Macedonian, Persian,
Roman--fought here; and for hundreds of years Byzantium was the capital
of the Roman and Christian world. The Crusaders and the Saracens did a
choice lot of fighting over this battle-ground; and it was here that
the doughty warrior, Paul of Tarsus, broke into Europe, as first
invader in the greatest of conquests. Along this narrow line of
beautiful blue water the East menacingly confronts the West. Turkey's
capital, as a sort of Mr.-Facing-Both-Ways, bestrides the water; for
Scutari, in Asia, is essentially a part of Greater Constantinople. That
simple geographical fact really pictures Turkey's present condition: it
is rent by the struggle of the East with the West, Asia with Europe, in
its own body.
"The great game" of to-day, rather than of any hoary and romantic
yesterday, holds the interest of the modern man. Player Number One,
even though he sits patiently in the background in seeming stolidity,
is big-boned, brawny, hairy, thirsty Russia. Russia wants water, both
here and in the far East. His whole being cries from parched depths for
the taste of the salt waters of the Mediterranean and the China Sea. At
present his ships may not pass through the Dardanelles: the jealous
Powers have said so. But Russia is the most patient nation on earth;
his "manifest destiny" is to sit in the ancient seat of dominion on the
Bosporus. Calmly, amid all the turbulence of international politics, he
awaits the prize that is assuredly his; but while he waits he plots and
mines and prepares for ultimate success. A past master of secret
spying, wholesale bribery, and oriental intrigue, is the nation which
calls its ruler the "Little Father" on earth, second only to the Great
Father in heaven. If one is curious and careful, one may learn which of
the Turkish statesmen are in Russian pay.
Looming larger--apparently--than Russia amid the minarets upon the
lovely Constantinople horizon is Germany, the Marooned Nation. Restless
William shrewdly saw that Turkey offered him the likeliest open door
for German expansion and for territorial emancipation. So he played
courtier to his "good friend, Abdul Hamid," and to the Prophet Mohammed
(they still preserve at Damascus the faded remains of the wreath he
laid upon Saladin's tomb the day he made the speech which betrayed
Europe and Christendom), and in return had his vanity enormously
ministered to. His visit to Jerusalem is probably the most notable
incident in the history of the Holy City since the Crusades. Moreover,
he carried away the Bagdad Railway concession in his carpet-bag. By
this he expects to acquire the cotton and grain fields of Mesopotamia,
which he so sorely needs in his business, and also to land at the front
door of India, in case he should ever have occasion to pay a call,
social or otherwise, upon his dear English cousins.
True, the advent of the Turkish constitution saw Germany thrown crop
and heels out of his snug place at Turkey's capital, while that
comfortable old suitor, Great Britain, which had been biting his
finger-nails on the doorstep, was welcomed smiling once more into the
parlor. Great was the rejoicing in London when Abdul Hamid's
"down-and-out" performance carried his trusted friend William along.
The glee changed to grief when, within a year--so quickly does the
appearance of the chess-board change in "the great game"--Great Britain
was once more on the doorstep, and fickle Germany was snuggling close
to Young Turkey on the divan in the dimly lighted parlor. Virtuous old
Britain professed to be shocked and horrified; he occupied himself with
talking scandal about young Germany, when he should have been busy
trying to supplant him. Few chapters in modern diplomatic history are
more surprising than the sudden downfall and restoration of Germany in
Turkish favor. With reason does the Kaiser give Ambassador von
Bieberstein, "the ablest diplomat in Europe," constant access to the
imperial ear, regardless of foreign-office red tape. During the heyday
of the Young Turk party's power, this astute old player of the game was
the dominant personality in Turkey.
The disgruntled and disappointed Britons have comforted themselves with
prophecy--how often have I heard them at it in the cosmopolitan cafes
of Constantinople!--the burden of their melancholy lay being that some
day Turkey would learn who is her real friend. That is the British way.
They believe in their divine right to the earth and the high places
thereof. They are annoyed and rather bewildered when they see Germany
cutting in ahead of them, especially in the commerce of the Orient; any
Englishman "east of Suez" can give a dozen good reasons why Germany is
an incompetent upstart; but however satisfactory and soothing to the
English soul this line of philosophy may be, it drives no German
merchantmen from the sea and no German drummers from the land. The
supineness of the British in the face of the German inroads into their
ancient preserves is amazing to an American, who, as one of their own
poets has said,
Turns a keen, untroubled face
Home to the instant need of things.
In this case, however, the proverbial luck of the British has been with
them. The steady decline of their historic prestige in the near East
was suddenly arrested by Italy's declaration of war. For more than a
generation Turkey has been the pampered _enfant terrible_ of
international politics, violating the conventions and proprieties with
impunity; feeling safe amid the jealousies of the players of "the great
game." Every important nation has a bill of grievances to settle with
Turkey; America's claim, for instance, includes the death of two
native-born American citizens, Rogers and Maurer, slain in the Adana
massacre, under the constitution. Nobody has been punished for this
crime, because, forsooth, it happened in Turkey. Italy made a pretext
of a cluster of these grievances, and startled the world by her claims
upon Tripoli, accompanied by an ultimatum. Turkey tried to temporize.
Pressed, she turned to Germany with a "Now earn your wages. Get me out
of this scrape, and call off your ally."
And Germany could not. With the taste of Morocco dirt still on his
tongue, the Kaiser had to take another unpalatable mouthful in
Constantinople. His boasted power, upon which the Turks had banked so
heavily, and for the sake of which they had borne so much humiliation,
proved unequal to the demand. He could not help his friend the Sultan.
Italy would have none of his mediation; for reasons that will
hereinafter appear.
Then came Britain's vindication. The Turks turned to this historic and
preeminent friend for succor. The Turkish cabinet cabled frantically to
Great Britain to intercede for them; the people in mass-meeting in
ancient St. Sophia's echoed the same appeal. For grim humor, the
spectacle has scarcely an equal in modern history. Besought and
entreated, the British, who no doubt approved of Italy's move from the
first, declined to pull Turco-German chestnuts out of the fire. "Ask
Cousin William to help you," was the ironical implication of their
attitude. Well did Britain know that if the situation were saved, the
Germans would somehow manage to get the credit of it. And if the worst
should come, Great Britain could probably meet it with Christian
fortitude! For in that eventuality the Bagdad Railway concession would
be nullified, and Britain would undoubtedly take over all of the
Arabian Peninsula, which is logically hers, in the light of her Persian
Gulf and Red Sea claims. The break-up of Turkey would settle the
Egyptian question, make easy the British acquisition of southern
Persia, and put all the holy places of Islam under the strong hand of
the British power, where they would be no longer powder-magazines to
worry the dreams of Christendom. Far-sighted moves are necessary in
"the great game."
Small wonder that Germany became furious; and that the Berlin
newspapers burst out in denunciations of Italy's wicked and piratical
land-grabbing--a morsel of rhetoric following so hard upon the heels of
the Morocco episode that it gave joy to all who delight in hearing the
pot rail at the kettle. "The great game" is not without its humors. But
the sardonic joke of the business lies deeper than all this. The Kaiser
had openly coquetted with the Sultan upon the policy of substituting
Turkey for Italy in the Triple Alliance. Turkey has a potentially great
army: the one thing the Turk can do well is to fight. With a suspicious
eye upon Neighbor Russia, the Kaiser figured it out that Turkey would
be more useful to him than Italy, especially since the Abyssinian
episode had so seriously discredited the latter. Then, of a sudden,
with a poetic justice that is delicious, Italy turns around and
humiliates the nation that was to take its place The whole comic
situation resembles nothing more nearly than a supposedly defunct
spouse rising from his death-bed to thrash the expectant second husband
of his wife.
Here "the great game" digresses in another direction, that takes no
account of Turkey. Of course, it was more than a self-respecting desire
to avenge affronts that led Italy to declare war against Turkey; and
also more than a hunger for the territory of Tripoli. Italy needed to
solidify her national sentiment at home, in the face of growing
socialism and clever clericalism. Even more did she need to show the
world that she is still a first-class power. There has been a
disposition of late years to leave her out of the international
reckoning. Now, at one skilful jump, she is back in the game--and on
better terms than ever with the Vatican, for she will look well to all
the numerous Latin missions in the Turkish Empire, and especially in
Palestine. These once were France's special care, and are yet, to a
degree; but France is out of favor with the Church, and steadily
declining from her former place in the Levant, although French
continues to be the "_lingua franca"_ of merchandising, of polite
society, and of diplomacy, in the Near East.
Let nobody think that this is lugging religion by the ears into "the
great game." Religion, even more than national or racial consciousness,
is one of the principal players. In America politicians try to steer
clear of religion; although even here a cherry cocktail mixed with
Methodism has been known to cost a man the possible nomination for the
Presidency. In the Levant, however, religion _is_ politics. The
ambitions and policies of Germany, Russia, and Britain are less potent
factors in the ultimate and inevitable dissolution of Turkey than the
deep-seated resolution of some tens of millions of people to see the
cross once more planted upon St. Sophia's. Ask anybody in Greece or the
Balkans or European Russia what "the great idea" is, and you will get
for an answer, "The return of the cross to St. Sophia's." Backward and
even benighted Christians these Eastern churchmen may be, but they hold
a few fundamental ideas pretty fast, and are readier to fight for them
than their occidental brethren.
The world may as well accept, as the principal issue of "the great
game" that centers about Constantinople, the fact that the war begun
twelve hundred years ago by the dusky Arabian camel-driver is still on.
This Turco-Italian scrape is only one little skirmish in it.
* * * * *
The outbreak of war between Italy and Turkey came as a surprize to the
great majority of the European public, and even in Italy until the last
moment few believed that the crisis would come to a head so soon. Those
who had closely followed the course of political opinion in the country
during the past year, however, saw that a change had come over the
public spirit of Italy, and that a new attitude toward questions of
foreign policy was being adopted. It may be of interest in the present
circumstances to examine the causes and the course of this development.
Since the completion of Italian unity with the fall of the Temporal
Power in 1870, the Italian people had devoted all its energies to
internal affairs, for everything had to be created--roads, railways,
ports, improved agriculture, industry, schools, scientific
institutions, the public services, were either totally lacking or quite
inadequate to the needs of a great modern nation. Above all, the
finances of the State, shattered by the wars of independence and by bad
administration, had to be placed on a sound footing. Consequently,
foreign affairs attracted but slight public interest. Such a state of
things was at that time inevitable owing to the precarious situation at
home, but it proved a most unfortunate necessity, as it was during this
very period that the great no-man's-lands of Asia and Africa were being
partitioned among the other nations, and vast uncultivated,
undeveloped, and thinly populated territories annexed by various
European Powers, and converted into important colonial empires offering
splendid outlets for trade and emigration. Italy had appeared last in
this field, when nearly all the best lands had been annexed and when
conquests could not be attempted, even in the still available regions,
without large, well-organized armed forces and a determined,
intelligent, and well-informed public opinion to back them up. In Italy
neither was to be found. The country was too poor to launch forth into
colonial and foreign politics with any chance of success, and the
people were too untraveled and too little acquainted with the
development of other countries to pay much attention to events outside
Italy, or, at all events, outside Europe.
In the meanwhile, considerable progress in the economic and social
conditions of the Italian people had been achieved, and by grinding
economy and incredible sacrifices the finances were being restored.
There came a moment, however, when the need for colonial expansion
began to be felt. As a sop to public opinion, which had been
exasperated by the French occupation of Tunis, the Italian Government
decided in 1885 to occupy Massowah and the surrounding territories on
the Red Sea coast. But that country was not suited to Italian
colonization, and Italy was not yet ready to develop a purely trading
colony at so great a distance from the homeland. A long series of
errors were committed, relieved at times by the heroism and devotion of
the army fighting against huge odds in an inhospitable and unknown
land, culminating in the disaster of Adowa in 1896. What wrought the
greatest injury to Italian prestige was not so much the defeat in
itself as the fact that it was allowed to remain unavenged. There was a
fresh Italian army on the scene under an admirable leader, General
Baldissera, who enjoyed the full confidence of his men, and it was
clear that the Abyssinian forces could not hold together much longer.
The Premier, however, Signor Crispi, a man of unquestioned ability, but
who lived in advance of his time, before the nation was ready to follow
him in his Imperial policy, was overwhelmed by a storm of indignation,
and his successor, Marchese di Rudini, terrified by the riots promoted
by unscrupulous Socialist and Anarchist agitators as a protest against
the African campaign, concluded a disastrous peace with the enemy.
In the meanwhile, Italian Socialism, which had found a suitable field
for action in the unsatisfactory condition of the working class, had
evolved a theory of government which, although common to some extent to
the Socialists of other countries, was nowhere carried to such lengths
as in Italy. Socialism in theory has everywhere adopted an attitude of
hostility to militarism, imperialism, and patriotism, and professes to
be internationalist and pacificist, and regards class hatred and civil
disorders as the only moral and praiseworthy forms of warfare. But in
countries where the masses have reached a certain degree of political
education such views, if carried to their logical conclusion, are sure
to be rejected by the majority, and even the Socialist leaders realize
that Nationalism is a vital force which has to be reckoned with, and
that a sane Imperialism and efficient military policy are as necessary
in the interests of the masses as in those of the classes. In Italy, on
the other hand, where even the bourgeoisie took but a lukewarm interest
in the wider questions of world policy, the Socialist leaders conducted
an avowedly anti-patriotic propaganda against every form of national
sentiment, against the very existence of Italy as a nation, and they
achieved considerable success. By representing patriotism and the army
as the causes of low wages, and war and colonial Imperialism as the
result of purely capitalist intrigues because it is only the
capitalists who profit by such adventures, they met with wide-spread
acceptance among a large part of the working classes.
Thus a general feeling got possession of the Italian people that war
was played out, and that even if it were to occur Italy was sure to be
defeated by any other Power, that nothing must be done to provoke the
resentment of the foreigner, that the only form of expansion to be
encouraged was emigration to foreign lands, and even the export trade
which was growing so rapidly was looked upon askance by the Socialists
as a mere capitalist instrument. This attitude, which was certainly not
conducive to a healthy public spirit, was reflected in the conduct of
the Government, which felt that it would not be backed by the nation if
it gave signs of energy. The result was that Italy found her interests
blocked at every turn by other nations which were not imbued with such
"humanitarian" theories, and that she was subjected to countless
humiliations on the part of Governments who were convinced that under
no provocation would Italy show resentment.
Gradually and imperceptibly a change came over public feeling, and the
necessity for a sane and vigorous patriotism began to be dimly
realized. One of the earliest symptoms of this new attitude was the
publication, in 1903, of Federigo Garlanda's _La terza Italia_; the
book professed to be written by a friendly American observer and critic
of Italian affairs, and the author regards the absence of militant
patriotism as the chief cause of Italy's weakness in comparison with
other nations. Mario Morasso, in his volume, _L'Imperialismo nel Secolo
XX,_ published in 1905, opened fire on the still predominant
Socialistic internationalism and sentimental humanitarianism, and
extolled the policy of conquest and expansion adopted by Great Britain,
Germany, France, and the United States as a means of strengthening the
fiber of the national character.
In December, 1910, a congress of Italian Nationalists was held in
Florence, and at that gathering, which was attended by several hundred
persons, including numerous well-known names, many aspects of Italian
national life were examined and discussed. The various speakers
impressed on their hearers the importance of Nationalism as the basis
for all political thought and action. The weakness of the country, the
contempt which other nations felt for Italy, the unsatisfactory state
both of home and foreign politics, and the poverty of a large part of
the population, were all traced to the absence of a sane and vigorous
patriotism. The strengthening of the army and navy, the development of
a military spirit among the people, a radical change of direction in
the conduct of the nation's foreign policy, and the ending of the
present attitude of subservience to all other Powers, great or small,
were regarded as the first _desiderata_ of the country. The Turks, too,
who since the revolution of 1908 had become particularly truculent
toward the Italians, especially in Tripoli, also came in for rough
treatment, and various speakers demanded that the Government should
secure adequate protection for Italian citizens and trade in the
Ottoman Empire, and that a watch should be kept on Tripoli lest others
seized it before the moment for Italian occupation arrived. Signor
Corradini insisted that there were worse things for a nation than war,
and that the occasional necessity for resort to the "dread arbitrament"
must be boldly faced by any nation worthy of the name.
The congress proved a success, and the ideas expressed in it which had
been "in the air" for some time were accepted by a considerable number
of people. The Nationalist Association was founded then and there and
soon gathered numerous adherents; a new weekly paper, _L'Idea
Nazionale_, commenced publication on March 1, 1911 (the anniversary of
Adowa), and rapidly became an important organ of public opinion, while
several dailies and reviews adopted Nationalist principles or viewed
them with sympathy. Italian Nationalism has no resemblance to the
parties of the same name in France, Ireland, or elsewhere; indeed, it
is not really a party at all, for it gathers in Liberals,
Conservatives, Radicals, Clericals, Socialists even, provided they
accept the patriotic idea and are anxious to see their country raised
to a higher place in the congress of nations even at the cost of some
sacrifice.
Italy, according to Professor Sighele _(Il Nazionalismo ed i Partiti
politici_ p. 80 sq.), must be Imperialist in order to prevent the
closing up of all the openings whence the nation receives its oxygen,
and to prevent the Adriatic from becoming more and more an Austrian
lake, to prevent even the Mediterranean from being closed around us
like a camp guarded by hostile sentinels, and to provide a field of
activity for our emigrants wherein they will enjoy that protection
which they now lack, and which only a bold foreign policy, a thorough
preparation for war, and a clear Imperialist attitude on the part of
the rulers of the State can give them.
For some time the Government continued to appear impervious to the
Nationalist spirit and professed to regard the movement as a
schoolboy's game. But it could not long remain indifferent to so
wide-spread a feeling. Italy's relations with Turkey were rapidly
approaching a crisis. The new Ottoman régime, while it was proving no
better than the old in the matter of corruption, inefficiency, and
persecution of the subject-races, had one new feature--an outburst of
rabid chauvinism and of hatred for all foreigners, but especially for
Italians, whom the Young Turks regarded as the weakest of nations.
Never had Italian prestige fallen so low in the Levant as at this
period, and the Italian Government did nothing to retrieve the
situation. In Tripoli, above all, where Italy's reversionary interest
had been sanctioned by agreements with England and France, the position
of Italian citizens and firms was rendered well-nigh intolerable.
Turkish persecution reached such a point that two Italians, the monk,
Father Giustino, and the merchant, Gastone Terreni, were assassinated
at the instigation and with the complicity of the authorities, without
any redress being obtained.
The Nationalists since the beginning of their propaganda had agitated
for a firmer attitude toward Turkey, insisting on the opening up of
Tripoli to Italian enterprise. Italy was being hemmed in on all sides
by France in Algeria and Tunisia, and by England in Egypt; Tripolitaine
alone remained as a possible outlet for her eventual expansion. The
Turkish Government did nothing for the development of that province,
but it was determined that no one else should do anything for it, and
thwarted the efforts of every Italian enterprise, the Banco di Roma
alone succeeding by ceaseless activity and untiring patience in
creating important undertakings in the African vilayet.
Had events pursued their normal course Italy would probably have been
content to develop her commercial interests in Tripolitaine to the
advantage of its inhabitants as well as of her own, waiting for the
time when in due course the country should fall to her share. But the
persistent hostility of the Turkish authorities was bringing matters to
a head, and while the Italian Government apparently refused to regard
the state of affairs as serious, the Nationalists continued to demand
the assertion of Italy's interests in Tripoli. The Press gradually
adopted their point of view, the _Idea Nazionale_ published Corradini's
vivid letters from Tripoli, and even Ministerial organs like the
_Tribuna_ of Rome and the _Stampa_ of Turin, following the lead of
their correspondents who visited Tripolitaine during the past spring
and summer and wrote of its resources and possibilities with
enthusiasm, were soon converted. If any nation has a right to colonies
it is Italy with her rapidly increasing population, her small
territory, and her streams of emigrants. Still the Government, from
fear of international complications and of alienating its Socialist
supporters, who, of course, opposed all idea of territorial expansion,
refused to do anything. Then the Franco-German Morocco bombshell burst,
and Agadir made the Italian people realize that the question of Tripoli
called for immediate solution. The whole of the rest of Mediterranean
Africa was about to be partitioned among the Powers, and Tripoli would
certainly not be left untouched if Italy failed to make good her
claims; Germany, it is believed, had cast her eyes on it, and already
her commercial agents and prospectors were on the spot. The demands for
an occupation by Italy were insistent; all classes were calling on the
Government to act, and in Genoa there were even angry mutterings of
revolt. The nation realized that it was a case of now or never, and
every one felt that the folly of Tunis must not be repeated.
At the same time the Turks, convinced that Italy would never fight,
continued in their overbearing attitude, and placed increasing
obstacles in the way of Italian enterprise in all parts of the Empire
while ostentatiously favoring other foreign undertakings. Incidents
such as the abduction of an Italian girl and her forcible conversion to
Islam and marriage to a Turk, and the attacks on Italian vessels in the
Red Sea, added fuel to the flame, and public opinion became more and
more excited. The Premier at last saw that the country was practically
unanimous on the question of Tripoli, and although personally averse to
all adventures in the field of foreign affairs which interfered with
his political action at home, he realized that unless he faced the
situation boldly his prestige was gone. On the 20th of September the
expedition to Tripoli was decided. Hastily and secretly military
preparations were made, and the Note concerning the sending of Turkish
reinforcements or arms to Tripoli was issued. Then followed the
ultimatum, and finally the declaration of war. The Socialist leaders,
who saw in this awakening of a national conscience and of a militant
Imperialist spirit a serious menace to their own predominance, were in
a state of frenzy, and they attempted to organize a general strike as a
protest against the Government. But the movement fizzled out miserably,
and only an insignificant number of workmen struck.
On the other hand, the declaration of war was greeted by an outburst of
popular enthusiasm such as no one believed possible in the Italy of
to-day. The departure or passage of the troops on their way to Tripoli
gave occasion for scenes of the most intense patriotic excitement, and
the sight of some two hundred thousand people in the streets of Rome at
one A.M. on October 7th, cheering the march past of the 82d infantry
regiment, is one not easily forgotten. The heart of the whole nation
was in the enterprise. Even many prominent Socialists, casting the
shackles of party fealty to the winds, declared themselves in favor of
the Government's African policy and accepted the occupation of Tripoli
as a necessity for the country, while the Clericals were even more
enthusiastic. But there was hardly a trace of anti-Turkish feeling; it
was simply that the people, rejoiced at having awakened from the long
nightmare of political apathy and international servility, had thrown
off the grinding and degrading yoke of Socialist tyranny, and risen to
a dawn of higher ideals of national dignity. Italy had at last asserted
herself. The extraordinary efficiency, speed, and secrecy with which
the expedition was organized, shipped across the Mediterranean, and
landed in Africa, the discipline, _moral_, and gallantry which both
soldiers and sailors displayed, were a revelation to everybody and gave
the Italians new confidence in their military forces, and made them
feel that they could hold up their heads before all the world
unashamed. A new Italy was born--the Italy of the Italian nation. In
the words of Mameli's immortal hymn, which has been revived as the
war-song of the Nationalists,
"Fratelli d'Italia, l'Italia s'è desta,
Dell' elmo di Scipio s'è cinta la testa."
The actual operations of the war were too one-sided to be interesting
from the military viewpoint. Turkey had no navy which could compete for
a moment with that of Italy. Hence the Turks could dispatch no troops
whatever to Tripoli, and its defense devolved solely upon the native
Arab inhabitants. These wild tribes were brave and warlike and
fanatically Mohammedan in their opposition to the Christian invaders.
But they were wholly without training in modern modes of warfare and
without modern weapons. Their frenzied rushes and antiquated guns were
helpless in the face of quick-firing artillery.
The Italians demonstrated their ability to handle their own forces, to
transport troops, land them and provision them with speed and skill.
That was about all the struggle established. On October 3d the city of
Tripoli, the only important Tripolitan harbor, was bombarded. Two days
later the soldiers landed and took possession of it. For a month
following, there were minor engagements with the Arabs of the
neighborhood, night attacks upon the Italians, rumors that they lost
their heads and shot down scores of unarmed and unresisting natives.
Then on November 5th Italy proclaimed that she had conquered and
annexed Tripoli.
The only remaining difficulty was to get the Turkish Government to give
its formal assent to this new regime, which it had been unable to
resist. Here, however, the Italians encountered a difficulty. They had
promised the rest of Europe that they would not complicate the European
Turkish problem by attacking Turkey anywhere except in Africa. In
Africa they had now done their worst, and so the Turkish Government,
with true Mohammedan serenity, defied them to do more. Turkey
absolutely refused to acknowledge the Italian claim to Tripolitan
suzerainty. True, she could not fight, but neither would she utter any
words of surrender. Let the Italians do what they pleased in Tripoli.
Turkey still continued in her addresses to her own people to call
herself its lord.
This course satisfied the ignorant Mohammedans of Constantinople, who
knew little of what was really happening; and so it enabled the Young
Turk party to retain control of the political situation at home. The
dissatisfaction of Italy, however, increased, until she withdrew her
earlier pledge to Europe and set her navy to the task of seizing one
after another the Turkish islands lying in the eastern Mediterranean,
After some months of this leisurely appropriation of helpless
territories, the Turks yielded the point at issue. In October of 1912
they signed a treaty of peace with Italy granting her entire possession
of Tripoli. By this time the Turks had become involved in their far
more deadly struggle with the united Balkan States; and the Government
was able to offer this new strife to its subjects as its excuse for
yielding to the Italians. Turkey, though she still holds a nominal
authority over Egypt, ceased to have any real power over any part of
Africa. She retained only a European and Asiatic empire.